


as a poet

by mornen



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Family, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Various Canons, not tagging all the characters but I'll tag my repeat characters that I can't shut up about, probably gonna change the title, various relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mornen/pseuds/mornen
Summary: Collection for ficlets and drabbles since I have a few that are so short it doesn't make sense to post them as their own storyChapter names will show which character(s) are the main focus
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Thranduil & little Legolas

Thranduil tucks Legolas's head under his chin. In the stars there are stories, and Legolas watches as he shows them – the pictures and the promises sketched into the sky.

'There are so many stars,' Legolas says. 'Are they all fire?'

'I think so.'

Legolas holds a sprig of violets. They look silver in starlight. Legolas touches the sky with his fingertips, but that is only the wind close to them. It is still the sky.

'The air grows thinner on the mountains,' Thranduil says.

'Is there air in the heavens?' Legolas asks. 'Is there wind?'

'Elrond says that it is quiet, cold, and thin.'

'He knows because his father is a star?'

'Yes, because his father is a star.'

'So that one isn't fire.'

Thranduil watches the stars blazing.

'No,' he says. 'It is.'


	2. Thranduil & Little Legolas, Frog

Thranduil scoops Legolas up moments before he tumbles down the bank into the river.

'Frog!' Legolas cries out, pointing to the reeds in a wet patch of land the river feeds.

'Yes, that's a frog,' Thranduil says. 'But the frog can live in the water, and you can't.'

'But I want to.'

'Live in the water?'

'Be the frog.'

'Be a frog?'

'Be a frog!'

Thranduil kisses a patch of clean skin on Legolas's cheek. 'Of course, baby. Maybe Gandalf will turn you into a frog.'

Legolas's eyes light up. 'Yes!' he cries out, smacking Thranduil's arm accidentally in his broad gesture of excitement.

Thranduil shakes his head. He strokes back Legolas's tangled hair, falling loose from its braids.

'Then we can ask next time he visits.'

'Excellent!' Legolas smiles dreamily at the prospect. 'With spots?' He adds worriedly, pointing to his freckles.

'With spots, little one,' Thranduil assures.

'I can't wait for Gandalf to get here.'


	3. Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir

Elrond lifts Elrohir over his head and spins him in the meadow. He is steady with his footing, steady with his grasp. He watches Elrohir laugh above him, and it’s a laugh that would make any pain worth enduring. 

Elrohir’s hair flashes in the sunlight. Sometimes it mixes with Elrond’s hair when the wind picks up and brushes all the grass down in a sweep. The grass rises. The wind presses it down again in green waves. 

Elrond sets Elrohir down and lifts Elladan next. He spins him, and Elladan stretches his arms out like he is really flying. His smile is brighter than the sun that halos about his head.


	4. Thingol and Melian

Thingol built a city for starlight. It was made for the constancy of darkness punctured by a galaxy too far away to dream of touching, which he stood beneath while trees grew fast around him and he fell in love with the dark eyes and hands that held him, the hair which brushed black against their ankles as they stood among the long blades of black grass pointing upwards towards the young trees.

Together they built this city with its carved pillars and high lamps. It was made for a refuge from creeping shadows, which tried to steal those who remained – those who had not been stolen before by the promise of light.

He did not need that light. He had seen enough light in her starlit eyes. You could lose yourself in them and never find your way out, no matter how hard you tried.

Sometimes he had tried to drag himself away – when he had felt the saplings reach above his shoulders, when snow had come, falling wild, when the pines stirred in the wind, towering, and lightning tore across the sky. He thought then that maybe he was in danger.

But she had kept him, and her eyes had held him, and together they had been safe.

‘I will love you always,’ she had promised with her silence, and he had needed nothing else.


	5. Ulmo

Ulmo crashed onto the shore, exploding over the sand in white foam. He rolled back, swelling, dragging pebbles with him into the sea. Under the clouds he crashed, rising up and falling down upon himself while lightning shivered across the sky. Deep into the depths of the ocean he dove until he reached the dark bottoms were light had disappeared. In the silence of the water he waited, stretching himself out over miles until he reached the canyons of the earth where fire bubbled and burst. Then up again he rose, passing fish with lanterns, until the water broke blue.


	6. Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, Fëanor

'Don't, don't!' Curufin scrambled backwards away from Celegorm over the stone floor of Celegorm’s bedroom. 'Don't you dare!'

Celegorm laughed. He dragged him down. ‘Don’t be such a baby. Hold still!’

Curufin jerked away from Celegorm. ‘Stop it!’

‘Moryo, hold his legs down!’ Celegorm ordered. Caranthir sighed heavily but sat down on Curufin’s legs.

Celegorm uncapped the (permanent) ink pen with his teeth.

'No!' Curufin screamed. 'Please, no!'

Celegorm grinned. His eyes gleamed as he held the pen up. ‘Stay put.’

'Please I'm so pretty!' Curufin gasped.

‘Too bad,' Celegorm said. ‘Being stupidly vain is not gonna help you.’

'Nelyo!'

Celegorm’s smile widened. ‘He left. He’s not coming.’

'No! I'm telling on you!' Curufin shrieked. ‘Nelyo! Nelyo! Kano! Please! Save me!’

The door to Celegorm’s bedroom swung open, and their father stepped in. Celegorm froze. Fëanor wasn’t supposed to be home.

'Save me!' Curufin begged. Fëanor ran in and threw Celegorm off Curufin.

Curufin shot Celegorm a dirty look from the safety of his father’s arms.

'Don't mark up my baby's face,' Fëanor snapped.

‘Shit,’ Caranthir whispered. He’d been smart enough to jump away from the scene before Fëanor had seen him.

Fëanor pointed a finger at him. ‘You too. Where are your brothers?’

‘I don’t know. With Findekáno or something,’ Celegorm muttered.

Fëanor kissed Curufin's cheek. 'His pretty face. You’re such mean older brothers.’

‘A.) vain B.) same,’ Caranthir murmured to his lap.

Celegorm snickered. Fëanor shot them both sharp glares.

‘Stop it. Now. So immature.’ He put his arm around Curufin’s shoulders and ushered him out of the room.

‘Aw, sucks,’ Caranthir said. He picked up his book though, happy to get off with just a few words and not a whole (hypocritical) lecture.

‘Yeah,’ Celegorm said, far too cheerfully. He spun quickly and pounced on Caranthir. ‘For you.’


End file.
